Shinobi World No. 1.
Autumn, Konoha Year 43.
A hidden underground cavern somewhere.
The life-support apparatus connected by pipes to the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path gave off a low hum, dark red light flickering in the cavern. Madara Uchiha reclined in a stone chair, his withered body entwined with countless thin tubes. Like parasitic vines, they fed the statue's life force into his failing shell drop by drop. His eyes were closed, their sockets sunken-of those two Sharingan, one had been lost in Minato Namikaze's trap, and the other had turned to ashes with the second activation of Izanagi.
Now, he was blind.
But his ears could still hear, his perception remained, and his will was still iron.
"Black Zetsu."
Madara's voice rasped like scraping sandpaper.
"Here."
Black Zetsu emerged from the shadows, that mass of pure darkness slowly coalescing into a vague humanoid shape, topaz-like eyes glowing faintly in the dark.
"How... are things in Konoha?"
"As you expected, Lord Madara."
Black Zetsu's voice was respectful, carrying a "loyalty" unchanged for a thousand years.
"Konoha has one village and three shadows, with no end to its infighting. The Southern Army has been devastated by Sunagakure and the Jashin Cult, the Northern Army is locked in a stalemate with Kumogakure, and Eastern Kirigakure has declared war as well. Although Minato Namikaze repelled Kirigakure's vanguard, its main force is still there. Konoha's forces have already been stretched to pieces."
The corners of Madara's mouth slowly curved into a cold smile.
"Hashirama... do you see? What has the Konoha you built with your own hands become?"
"And what about Nagato?"
Black Zetsu's shadow rippled slightly.
"Nagato... is doing well. The Rinnegan's power is growing stronger, and he can already skillfully use the abilities of the Deva Path, Asura Path, Animal